


Chat Roulette

by Fudgyokra



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous Age, Dirty Talk, Humor, I took a break from all the angst to bring y’all some of this silliness :), M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, in my head I assume Dick is 17/18 but I guess I don't specify
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 15:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12084330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: Dick has a wild time on chat roulette, as teenagers do.





	Chat Roulette

Dick had to remind himself every once in a while that this was more normal than fighting crime alongside a masked vigilante. Even in the darkness of his bedroom, with his extra-cushy headphones on and the door locked, he felt the sting of embarrassment as he kneaded himself through his boxer shorts and flipped through the online chatrooms, scaling through video after video of the same damn thing until he found something a little more his speed.

In all honesty, Bruce probably wouldn’t care if he ever found out that Dick spent his afternoons patrolling for masturbatory fodder on the internet. Plus, if he did, then Dick had a few pointers for how Bruce ought to spend _his_ time, too. So, it was harmless fun, right? Just a teen being a teen.

With a shaky breath, he maneuvered his hand under his shorts and stopped on a chat that finally caught his attention.

The internal pep talk he’d given himself did not seem to calm his nerves, but the grainy screen image he was faced with, bearing a man’s tanned, muscular body from neck to lap (much like Dick’s own setup) with his hand fisted around a pretty sizable cock was a good place to start.

He expected the channel to flip, honestly. Sure, he had muscle too, but not like this guy. Whoever this was, they were a serious Adonis if Dick had ever seen one.

And then he started talking to him with a voice so deep and warm that Dick nearly came right then and there. “I have to admit, this isn’t something I normally do,” he said, with soft, shallow breaths as his punctuation.

“I—ha,” Dick said, stupidly, before swallowing a lump in his throat and trying again. “Me neither,” he lied. “Do you, like, work out?” Then, immediately, he pressed his free hand to his face and frowned. _Smooth_.

The man laughed, sweet and breathy in a way that made Dick’s skin tingle a little. “I get plenty of exercise,” he answered, dipping his chin into the screen just enough for Dick to catch sight of a superbly square jaw and an equally beautiful smile.

“God,” he sighed more than said, “you’re ridiculously hot.” Again, he mentally slapped himself. “Err, I mean…”

“Thank you,” the man answered, and if Dick wasn’t so preoccupied, he might have called the tone shy. “You’re very handsome yourself.”

He bit his lip. “Not like you, though.” Did that sound cocky? He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on what he was doing. “You could probably snap me in half.”

“Is that _good?_ ” the man asked, seeming a little taken aback.

“Ohhh, yeah,” Dick muttered, cracking one eye open again to watch the other work himself onscreen. “That’s perfect.”

The laugh came again. “You’re too sweet.”

“And _you_ are…” He made a sound akin to a mewl, further proving his inadequacy with words.

The stranger didn’t seem to mind. “I appreciate the compliment,” he said, and Dick caught the way his hips twitched forward in a sudden spasm.

“Jesus, I’d climb you like a tree,” he admitted, throwing the last of his dignity out the window. He was never going to see the guy again, anyway. “No kidding, I’d do whatever the hell you told me to.”

“Is that right?” the man asked, voice pitching upward in heated interest. “I’m not picky.”

“You, nnh…” Dick took a shaky breath and canted his hips forward, tightening his grip. “You could have me any way you wanted me and then some. On the floor, on the counter. Shit, I’d let you go to town on the damn dining room table during dinner if you wanted.”

“On your hands and knees…”

“ _Fuck_ yes,” Dick groaned, tipping his head back and parting his lips as if he had something interesting to say to the ceiling.

“Or maybe I’d let you sit in my lap and see what those pretty legs of yours are capable of.”

Dick made an embarrassingly choked sound in response, to which the stranger responded with a low chuckle. “Am I doing this dirty talk right?”

“God, yeah,” Dick said with a breathless laugh of his own. “But you know, I think I can do better.”

“Show me,” the man said, voice so strikingly authoritative and demanding that Dick _had_ to oblige.

“Yes, sir,” he grunted, thighs tensing. “Anything you want, sir.”

“Anything?”

“Anywhere, anytime. You can bend me over whenever you want and take me raw right on command. I’ll be the most obedient little toy you’ve ever had.”

The way the stranger’s muscles tightened at that was a piece of art in Dick’s eyes, and coupled with the wanting keen of his mellow voice, it took him less than a second to hit the point of no return. He tossed his head back again and bucked into his fist until he shot stripes of cum all the way up his chest and over his fingers with a curse.

On the screen, the stranger was enjoying much of the same bliss while Dick sunk lower onto his bed with a satisfied sigh.

There was a static-y pause, followed by a throat-clearing sound that he could hear clearly in the microphone. “Hey, actually, you look…familiar.”

Dick’s face, which had inadvertently slid into the camera’s view, lost all color. Immediately he shot up straight and came to his own defense. “What? Who? No, you’re probably thinking of someone else.”

“You’re Bruce’s son, aren’t you?”

_Fuck._ _Fuck!_ “Um, no!”

Before Dick could follow his urge to slam his laptop closed, the stranger tilted the camera upward, putting the view on a very red-faced, obviously embarrassed Clark Kent. “Oh. I thought that voice sounded familiar…”

Dick could’ve crawled into a hole and died. He’d just jerked off to the goddamned _Superman_ and, shit, his stupid dad was going to introduce them soon and… _dammit_. They were going to have to _work_ together. _Often!_

“I—I, ha, uh—” he said, as eloquent as ever, “I’m sorry?” He wanted to slap himself.

“Ha, no need for that,” Clark said with a grimace, “let’s just agree not to tell your father, all right?”

“Yeah, uh. Definitely,” Dick agreed. After a weak goodbye from both ends, he shut his laptop and wilted into his mussed sheets. “Great,” he muttered to himself, “way to go, idiot. Now you get to show up to every Justice League meeting with _that_ memory in your head.” He sighed. “Real damned dignified, Boy Wonder.”

For as long as he lived, he swore he would never try chat roulette again.


End file.
